You probably have to be on acid to write such dialogues, but you definitely can appreciate them nevertheless.
“Oh, fuck! We’d better take him out to King’s. Mike told me Gerri turned him on to peyote for the first time two days ago.”
“Is Gerri back in town?” I asked.
“So you do know Gerri, you rotten prick!”
“I used to know a Gerri. She worked in a Mexican restaurant.”
“No, he’s talking about Michael’s Gerri, from Ketchum,” Bobbi said.
“My Gerri belongs to no one. She’s part Samoan.”